Boxers
by Amethyst Jackson
Summary: A round robin with Mia, in which we got a little carried away... It all starts with Draco waking up in a Gryffindor bed with a lovely little hangover. *Chapter Two! The lovers are discovered!
1. Boxers or Briefs?

Boxers

By Mia and Amethyst

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Draco didn't know how it had happened, to be perfectly honest. He had woken up in a pair of Gryffindor boxers, in a Gryffindor bed...next to a Gryffindor. 

To be specific, it was his worst enemy: Mr. Perfect bloody Potter. Of all the people he had to wake up next to, it just had to be him. _'How the hell am I getting out of here?'_ he wondered.

Questions flew through his mind like snitches. How, why? What on earth possessed him to get into Harry Potter's _bed_? Moreover, what had possessed Harry Potter to let him in his bed? Good lord, what had they _done_? And then, suddenly, a memory crept into his mind.

*~*flashback*~* "Potter, you're fucking drunk. Why don't you go back to your tower and leave me the hell alone?" Draco snarled, backing away from the swaying Head Boy. "But, Draco, dearest friend of mine. Why don't you come with me?" Harry said, slurring most, if not all, of his words.

He rolled his eyes impatiently. The last thing he wanted to do was spend his evening getting a drunken Potter into bed - alone, and he certainly wasn't going to bother. "Go to bed, Potter. You're going to be very embarrassed in the morning as it is. The longer you stand here, the worse it will be," he said casually, knowing it would take him quite awhile to process that statement, and he began to walk away, back toward the Slytherin dungeons.

After a few moments, Harry jogged, or rather wobbled, towards Draco. Draco was halfway down the hall, which was a good head start. Harry went after him calling out Draco's name. "Okay, Draco. How about I buy you a drink, eh?" Draco stopped and thought about it. Later, he would extremely regret doing so. Harry caught up to him and flung his arm around Draco's neck. "So? How 'bout it? Just one drink, my treat."

It was a stupid move, but he agreed. It had been a terrible week, and the idea of alcohol was very tempting. What was the harm of one drink? He could keep his head; it wasn't as if he hadn't had any liquor before. Knowing he was going to regret it even as he decided to have a drink, he replied, "All right. One drink. And that's it."

Harry grinned stupidly. "Well, let's go!" he said, throwing his hands up in the air joyously. As he did so, he lost his balance and fell. Draco laughed to himself. _'This is going to be fun,_' he thought. Somehow he knew going to have a drink with Potter was going to be a lot more fun for him than for Potter.

*~* end flashback *~* Draco winced, closing his eyes. How could he have made such a stupid mistake? One drink had turned into three, and before he knew it, he had been tripping as much as Harry. And drunkenly, he had been lured into this particular trap. Harry's arm was now thrown across his chest, his leg thrown across a less comfortable place, and he was thoroughly stuck. 

Trying to keep from yelling at Harry to get his leg off of him, he thought quickly. _How am I suppose to get out of here? _he asked himself. He looked to his left; that brain-dead Neville. He looked right; Weasel. Finally, he lifted his head to see who was in the bed directly across from Harry's; Finnigan. _Damnit, I'm trapped._

To make matters considerably worse, Harry began to stir, mumbling incoherently. Draco thought of how bad Harry's headache would be when he woke, but it offered little comfort. Draco sighed, and Harry's eyes fluttered open. Powerful green, brighter than any you'd find in the Slytherin common room, pierced him, foggy with confusion and certainly a hangover, but shocked nonetheless.

Harry jumped and threw himself to the other end of the bed. "Malfoy? What the hell are you doing in my...my God, you're in _my_ bed...and in… are those my knickers?" Harry rambled, shaking his head every once and a while in total amazement. All the while, Draco nodded politely, agreeing with Harry's confusion. When Harry finally stopped, Draco just smirked at him. "And what, may I ask, is so funny, Malfoy?" Draco just shook his head.

"You do realize, Potter, that you were drunk as all hell last night, and that you were the one that dragged me up here?" he said, smirking still. "I certainly wouldn't lower myself to seducing you, Potter, don't worry." Harry merely stared, jade eyes wide with confusion and disbelief. Draco went on, "And you realize you're in _my _knickers, right? Going to have to have those washed thoroughly…"

Harry looked quickly down at his knickers, Draco's smirk grew bigger as Harry sighed. Harry looked back up at the smirking Draco. Suddenly, Harry's eyes started to gleam, and Draco knew Harry was up to something. Harry spoke up, with a tint of malice in his voice. "Malfoy? If I was so drunk, then why did you come up here with me? And if I did make you come up, then why are you still here?" Harry finished his sentence with a smirk. Draco glared at him.

Draco looked down, crafting a response, but his eyes met a pair of Slytherin boxers that happened to be on backwards, so that the snake that was usually on the back was in a very ironic area. His eyes jerked upwards, meeting Harry's, and his cheeks turned pink. He couldn't think of a lie to get him out of this one. "Because you got me drunk as well," Draco answered as firmly as he could, "And because I fell asleep once we were done."

Harry stared at him and Draco wished he would take those gorgeous emerald eyes and stare at something else. _Damn you, Draco. You just called bloody Potter's eyes gorgeous._ He mentally slapped himself and promised never to say that again. Snapping back into the now, he waited for Harry's reply. The longest thirty seconds of his life. "How did I manage to get you, the sexiest man in school, to come and get drunk with me?" Harry asked, playfulness not in his voice.

__

We both have to be drunk still, Draco thought, staring at him in awe. _I'm thinking his eyes are gorgeous, he's calling me sexy…yeah, we're still sloshed. But that doesn't mean I can't use it against him._ "Sexy, am I? So you still feel that way even when the alcohol wears off, do you? Well, Potter, since you're so eager to know, I'd had a bad day and I thought it would be hilarious to see you get drunk and act like the wanker you really are. And I had too much to drink." Despite the advantage he thought he had, his cheeks that were already pink turned pinker.

Harry smiled. "No, Draco, I'm not drunk. I may have a mighty hangover, but I'm not drunk. And now that my memory of last night is coming back, I specifically remember you acting like an ass, which was quite funny. And I am no more a wanker then you are, plus, I'm smarter then you. Although, you do beat me in looks." Harry smirked and Draco raised his eyebrows. _Well, now what are you going to do?_ he asked himself.

Draco glanced around the room. The others were thankfully all still fast asleep. He turned back to Harry, suddenly finding their nearness and half-nakedness rather uncomfortable. "At least I don't trip every other step when I'm drunk, Potter. And you're right, I _do_ beat you in looks. But if we're going to keep up this discussion, can we hold it somewhere where there isn't a batch of Gryffindors about to wake up?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure, Draco, whatever you want. I suppose it is a good idea to...ahem...leave this room. Where would you like to go?" Draco stared at Harry in utter disbelief. Did he want to actually leave with Harry along? No, not really. Did he want to continue the conversation? No, but he didn't think he had a choice. He sighed. "I don't care, Potter, wherever you want to go. But I will say that we do not have to continue this conversation."

"Oh, no, Draco," Harry replied, "We're finishing this conversation." Draco sighed, defeated. The worst that could happen was that a pack of Gryffindors would discovered him with Harry. If that happened, Draco probably wouldn't be the one with reason to worry. "Grab your clothes," Harry told him, pulling him away from his thoughts. Draco slipped out of the bed and spotted his clothing; thankfully, all of it was near Harry's bed. He pulled on his pants and shirt quickly, his robes going on over them. He wanted to be out of there, and felt in desperate need of a shower.

Draco watched as Harry put on his clothes. Shaking out of his reverie, he put his shoes on. Harry went to his trunk and pulled out something that looked like a cloak. Harry motioned for Draco to come over to the door. Draco hesitantly went to Harry. Harry threw a cloak over them both and Draco started. Harry turned his head and smiled at him. "It's an Invisibility Cloak. C'mon, let's get out of here." Harry and Draco walked close next to each other until Harry stopped in front of a brick wall.

Draco was impressed. He had known the Potters had been wealthy, but he had never thought they had been so well off that they could have afforded an Invisibility Cloak. Even his family, considered the wealthiest in the wizarding community of England, didn't have one, that he knew of. Draco abandoned his thoughts as Harry pulled out his wand and murmured something to the wall. A small door formed, and Harry opened it, pulling Draco inside. 

Draco looked around the room. Black, that was all he saw. Harry flung the Cloak to the other side of the room and conjured up some candles and lit them. Draco looked around the room again. The walls were made of brick and there was a wall full of...he walked closer. The wall was filled with potion ingredients. Harry quickly spoke up. "Draco, looking at potion ingredients was not part of the plan. Would you please," Harry motioned at the corner, "sit down?" Draco walked towards the corner, wanting to get this over with.

There was a sofa in the corner, and he sat down on the edge. It was a very small sofa, not much bigger than a large chair, and when Harry sat down next to him, they were closer than Draco would have liked. There was a very tiny part of him that wanted to get closer, but he was ignoring it with all his might. In the tense silence, it quickly became apparent that Harry was not going to be the first to speak, so Draco took it upon himself to make Harry as uncomfortable as possible. "So, when do you plan on giving me my boxers back?" He glanced over to Harry, and, for effect, let his gaze lower. "And, you know, you've got them on backwards, which, granted, makes the design considerably ironic…"

Harry coloured slightly in the dim light. Draco smirked at him. "I plan on giving them back, Draco, when I can change into my own. But seeing how I can't do that right now, I think it inappropriate to change them right now. I'll return them to you later." Draco nodded and then remembered his other comment. "But dearest Harry, you didn't mention them being on...backwards. What are you going to do about that?" Harry glared at him.

"I think they'll be fine that way for now," Harry replied coldly, though his cheeks were burning. Draco chuckled, greatly enjoying the torture he was putting Harry through. Still, he wanted to be out of there, and he was dying for a shower, perhaps a long soak in some very soapy water. "Well, Potter, you wanted to talk. Are you going to anytime soon?"

Harry sighed. "Yes, I will, as soon as I..." he was cut off. "As soon as you what, Potter?" Draco sneered and Harry glared at him. "I was getting to that. Anyway, I will as soon as I figure out what I want to say." Draco snorted. "You mean to tell me, that you dragged me down here, and you don't know what to say? My God, Potter, I knew you were slow, but I didn't think you were that slow." Harry sat there, looking at the ground.

"I know I need to say something, but I don't know how to put it," Harry said, his voice tinged with annoyance. For some reason, Draco fell silent. He didn't know why he wasn't enjoying making Harry frustrated. _It must be the hangover_, Draco thought, but that theory was quickly forgotten as Harry spoke again. "Last night didn't mean anything at all to you, did it?" Harry questioned, eyes still trained on the stone floor.

Draco looked at Harry. Confused, Draco asked, "What was last night? Did it mean anything to you? Or were you too drunk to remember?" Harry continued to look at the floor. "I remember it, don't you?" Harry asked. Draco nodded, "Yes, I do. Most of it, that is." Harry looked up at him. "What do you remember?" Harry asked nervously.

"Well, the major details," Draco replied, "I think that's self-explanatory. How much do you remember?" Harry turned tomato-coloured and replied, "All of it." Draco nodded nervously. "But you never answered me, Potter. What was it and what did it mean to you?"

Harry looked at the floor. Draco waited patiently. _He looks so...sexy when he's embarrassed,_ Draco thought, then mentally slapped himself. He sat there for a minute, then checked to make sure Harry was still alive. "Potter? Potter, answer my question," he said quietly. Harry sighed and swallowed hard, "My answer? Here's my answer. I...I think that...that I kinda...like you. As in...a crush kinda of like." Draco quickly looked at him, shock plastered on his face. "Oh, um...okay," Draco stuttered.

He wasn't sure how he felt about it, really. It was unexpected, certainly, and while Draco had accepted that he was bisexual quite awhile ago, he had never spent much time considering Harry that way. But now…now he was facing an attraction that he had never once thought he would feel. He found himself staring openly at Harry, realizing. He had a crush on his supposed worst enemy. And he had gotten drunk and slept with him last night. What would it do to his reputation? Did he even care? …No, not really. "I…I think I've got a crush on you, too."

Harry's head shot up. "You do?" he asked incredulously. Draco nodded slightly and realized that Harry wasn't breathing. "Potter, breathe. You know, the number one thing to do in life." Harry looked at him for a moment, but Draco could tell that he was breathing again. _Thank God_. He thought.

It seemed that once more, Harry wasn't going to be the one to initiate conversation. It was a shame he didn't need to be made speechless. Draco knew quite a few ways he could create that particular effect. Then a thought struck him…a very evil thought, indeed. "You know, Potter. I'd really like my boxers back. Right now."

Harry's head shot up. "Y-you…you what?" he stuttered. Draco grinned wickedly, "I want my boxers back…now." Harry gulped; Draco grinned some more. _This is going to be fun_. Draco thought. _Not only do I get to mess with Potter's head, but I get more then enough pleasure out of it._

It was Draco's turn to be surprised. "I want to keep them, though," he said innocently, though there was a definite glimmer of mischief in his eyes, "you know, as a souvenir. But…if you _really_ want them back, I guess you could always go ahead and get them…" 

Draco raised his eyebrows. _Potter must still have a hangover_, he thought. Harry looked piercingly at Draco, and Draco squirmed under his gaze. He quickly came to his senses and replied, a bit too sexily, "Is that an invite, Potter?" Harry nodded.

Draco gulped slightly. He had certainly not expected that when he had asked…though he didn't mind, either. Smirking, he did what he considered the proper thing in this situation - the promiscuous thing. With skill that could only come from much practice, he quickly straddled Harry and unbuttoned his pants, pulling the zipper down forcefully. Draco grinned and leaned forward, his lips just touching Harry's ear. "Why don't we see about getting your boxers back as well, hmm?" 

Harry grinned wickedly in response. Draco's eyes glittered with a strong craving as he saw Harry's face. Harry, using what muscles he had gained from Quidditch practice, gently but forcefully threw Draco to the ground. "Now, now, Potter, don't play rough."

Draco reached up and tugged Harry's pants down as far as he could, now fully appreciating the view. Harry kicked them off the rest of the way, proceeding to fumble with the fly of Draco's trousers. It was quite obvious that Harry had quite a bit less experience. Impatiently, Draco sat up and removed his own clothes before assisting Harry out of what left he had on. It wasn't long before they were a pair of sweaty, tangled limbs, both tired and still with considerable hangovers, but both smiling.


	2. Definitely Boxers

Two weeks later, Draco and Harry were still having midnight rendezvous. They would always take place in their 'room,' as Harry called it, and it would only last a few hours. Neither wanted more, but neither wanted less. They had agreed to hate each other during the day, and Draco took full advantage of that.

Just yesterday, they had almost gotten into a fistfight in the hallway. Draco rather liked the prospect of rolling around with Harry on the ground in a mock-brawl, but it seemed silly to get expelled when they could have much more fun late at night. 

This night was no different than the past nights. Draco walked quietly through the castle corridors toward their room. When he reached it, he quietly pulled out his wand and said the password. He waited patiently for the doorway to open. Draco knew what would be there waiting for him. Harry would be sitting, rather seductively, in the corner with a few candles lit around the room. However, this time, that's not what greeted him.

The person standing in the middle of the room was obviously not Harry. He was too tall, too freckled, his hair was red, and from the colour of his ears and neck, Draco could tell it was a very angry Ron Weasley. He almost sighed with exasperation but held it in check, not wanting to make his presence known. Harry was also in the room, apparently on the receiving end of one of Weasley's fits. Draco was about to back out of the room and leave them to it when Ron whirled around, eyes landing squarely on him.

Draco's eyes got very large and he searched for something snide to say. Coming up with nothing, he just stared piercingly at Ron. Ron, in turn, spun around to Harry. "Harry," Ron said in a choked voice, "Harry, you can't possibly mean to tell me that…this git…this slimy ass bastard is the one that you're screwing!" Harry's head sunk lower. Draco was getting angry at the redheaded Weasley for making Harry uncomfortable. Only he was suppose to do that, and in an entirely different way.

"Why do you think I didn't tell you, Ron?" Harry replied, voice shaking slightly. A fierce stab of possession flared in Draco, and he felt the sudden need to defend Harry in some way, though for the first time in his life, he found himself lost for words. His reaction was too slow. Ron had already started up again.

"I thought you were better then that, Harry Potter!" That had done it for Draco; he had to say something. "Shut your mouth, Weasley. At least he has someone, unlike you. You can't even get a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, doesn't really matter." Ron spun to face him. "Malfoy, I would hold that fucking tongue of yours. Or maybe you do want the entire school knowing you two's little…God, I don't even want to know what you two have been doing in here!" Ron took a breath, which evidently gave Harry time to get a word in.

"Ron! Will you pull your head out of your ass long enough to see you're being a closed-minded homophobe?!" Harry bellowed, eyes burning with anger. Draco was shocked by the sheer force of it. "I don't care what you think, Ron!" he continued, stepping away from the wall, "I'm in love with Draco, so you can just get used to it!"

Ron stared at him in disbelief. Draco smiled to himself, and then realized what Harry had said. Could Harry really love me? Or, more important…do I love Harry? Ron must have been thinking the same thing, because he finally came to his senses. "You…you what? How can you love…him? He's been horrible to you for the past…I can't even remember how long." Draco felt his face grow hot in remembrance of the past six years. He and Harry had hated each other, and now they were saying…well, Harry was saying that they loved each other. Ron did have a point there.

It didn't seem to matter, though. The past was not the present. Draco could say more honestly that his father was an innocent man than he could sincerely be horrible to Harry. He regretted the past, and, he suddenly realized, he did love Harry. Frowning, he decided to respond to the question before Harry could. "Tell me, Weasley…if I'm this asshole that's completely incapable of redemption, how can I love him back?"

Ron glared at him and Harry's eyes grew the size of golf balls. Draco looked into Harry's eyes. He could see confusion, but he could also see relief. They held the look until Ron busted through. "You love a human other than yourself? Ha! That's the funniest thing I've ever heard. C'mon, Malfoy, tell me another one. Or better yet, why don't you tell the truth! You don't love Harry. You don't even know what love is. So, why don't you just leave Harry alone?"

"Because, Weasley," Draco snapped, "I do love him. I regret what I've done. Hell, I'd even ignore the fact that you're an asshole for him if you weren't acting the part!" He paused, fuming. "Don't make assumptions about things you know nothing about. You don't know me, you haven't been here every night, and you have no idea what I feel."

"Ron, please, leave it. There's nothing you can do to change my mind, and I really doubt you'll change Draco's mind," Harry broke in softly. Draco's heart lifted slightly at the tone in Harry's voice. Ron took a deep, anger-filled breath and looked directly at Harry. "Alright, Harry. But answer me one question if you will." Harry nodded and Ron continued, "Why him, Harry? Why, Malfoy?"

Draco watched in wonder as Harry smiled slightly and replied, "Because it's right, Ron. Because he's not who he used to be. And because he deserves to be loved." He glanced at Draco, eyes honest as ever, and the last bit of ice around Draco's heart melted away. "You can't help who you love," Harry went on. "It's not something you can choose or stop. It was inevitable."

Ron's eyes flared dangerously. "You can too stop who you love! If I can do it, then you can bloody well stop yourself from shagging your ENEMY!" Draco looked up at Harry. Harry's eyes reflected what Draco was thinking. _'Weasley just said, 'If I can do it.' Who does Weasley love?'_

"And who, exactly, did you stop loving?" Draco asked, choosing to voice the thought. Ron jumped, startled. He obviously didn't realize what he had said, and Draco was privately thrilled to call him on it. Ron didn't seem to be quite as happy about it. He crossed his arms defensively, glaring. "That is none of your business, Malfoy."

Harry walked over to Draco. Draco silently thanked Ron for moving out of Harry's way. "Alright then, Ron. It is my business, so who did you stop loving?" Harry cut in, coming quickly to Draco's aid. Ron glared at both of them. "It's no one of importance, drop it," Ron said, looking away. Draco could have sworn he saw a tear forming in Ron's eyes.

Harry was frowning, and Draco knew that it was someone of importance and that Ron did still love her…or him. Otherwise, he wouldn't try so hard to deny it. And Draco was going to call him on that. "If it's no one of importance, and if you really did make yourself stop loving that person, why won't you tell Harry who it is?"

Harry looked at Draco, as if saying 'thank you', and turned to Ron. "Who is it, Ron? There are no secrets now, for anyone. You know my secret, what's yours?" Ron shook his head. Harry looked behind him at Draco. Draco silently pushed Harry to continue. "Ron, we've been best friends since…since we were eleven years old. Certainly some girl, or boy in my case, can't be all that horrible to tell, can it?"

Ron scowled, looking extremely frustrated. Draco was convinced for a moment that Ron was going to storm off, but then he spoke, voice shaking and rising abnormally in pitch. "Pansy. Are you happy now? It was Pansy… But I made myself stop loving her, because it isn't right! And you should realize that, Harry. It isn't right to be with him - not after all he's done to you, to all of us."

Draco's head spun. Of all the people in Hogwarts, it just had to be a Slytherin. Not only a Slytherin, but one of Draco's only friends. After all the years that Pansy had annoyed him, they had become friends. He realized that Pansy wasn't as bad as she seemed, and Pansy had realized that Draco only wanted to be friends (after about ten million tries of telling her so). "Can I ask you something, Ron?" Draco asked. Ron nodded. "Why is it not right? Is it because our houses have always been enemies?"

Ron wrinkled his nose in disgust and disbelief. "Are you kidding me? It has nothing to do with houses! It's because you and Pansy are both murderous, hateful Death Eaters! You're the actual enemy in this war! And in no way is it excusable to _fall in love_ with a person that may very well kill you one day! Gods," he cried, turning to Harry, "you of all people should realize that!" 

Before Draco could answer, Harry cut in. "Ron, there's something I should tell you…" Ron turned to Harry, skepticism painted on his face. "What this time? That you've also fallen in love with Hermione, and you, Malfoy, and her are going to run off and join the magic circus?" Both Draco and Harry burst out laughing. Ron raised his eyebrows at the two 17 year olds in front of him. "Well?"

Granger, magic circuses? Even Draco had to laugh at the mental imagery. The image of Harry as a clown sent Draco into a fresh fit of laughter. Harry, however, had turned serious again. "Ron, Draco's on our side. He's not our enemy, and the war hasn't begun yet. Please, try to understand."

Ron looked from Harry, to Draco, and back to Harry. "This has -got- to be some idea of a joke. Ha ha, very funny, joke's over, now tell the truth." Harry shook his head. "Look, Ron, this is no joke. I'm really in love with Draco, as he really is in love with me. Draco is on our side, and he -isn't- the enemy." Harry paused in thought for a second, and returned in a monotone, "Come to think of it, neither is Pansy…I mean, she's on our side."

Draco barely held back a smirk as Harry's words had their desired effect. He must have been rubbing off on Harry…figuratively, of course. Ron looked absolutely speechless, obviously torn between his hatred for Draco and his love for Pansy. Eventually, Ron shifted, meeting Draco's gaze levelly. "You're an asshole, and you always have been," he said, "You're not changing any time soon. Harry can be entirely too trusting." Ron spared Harry a quick glance before returning to Draco. "I'm not stupid. I don't trust you, Malfoy, and I don't trust Pansy, either."

"That's fine, Weasley. I don't need your approval. I love Harry, Harry loves me, and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it. Now, I'm willing to ignore the fact that you are an asshole, and even try to be friends -because- I love Harry. One more question, if you don't mind me asking - which I'm positive you do - so, I'll ask you anyway. Why is it that I'm willing to trust Harry, and try to trust you and Granger, but you can't admit to yourself that you still, and always have, loved Pansy?"

"That's simple," Ron replied, expression tight with repressed anger. "Hermione and I are on the right side. You and Pansy aren't. I can't trust her anymore than I can trust you. And it's not love when there is no trust. So I obviously don't love her, Malfoy. I can't love her. It would be betrayal."

"Ron, it's not betrayal when they are on the -same- side as we are. They just took a bit longer to see the right path-" Harry paused and restated his words, "at least, the better of the two paths." Draco thought for a moment. When was the first time he thought about going over to Harry's side?

But he never had. It had never been a conscious decision. It had been shagging at first; he hadn't anticipated changing his beliefs, but he had, as time wore on, as he fell in love with Harry. The actual decision had never come, but Draco knew that he would let his entire family die before he would let anything happen to Harry.

"I don't care, Harry, if they killed their own family for our side, I can't trust them. And without trust, there can't be love. There can be lust, but not love. I can't love Pansy -because- I'll never trust her. And you shouldn't love Malfoy, because you can't trust him." Draco quickly looked at Harry. Would Harry see Ron's side of this, because the red haired boy standing in front of him did have a point. Why did Harry trust him so much? He didn't even trust himself.

"Like you said, Ron, it's simple. I trust him because I love him. I know he loves me in return. I know what I'd do for him, and I imagine that he'd do the same for me. You severely underestimate the power of love upon a person," Harry replied, and Draco smiled, glad that Harry understood the extent of what Draco felt for him. In almost a whisper, Draco added, "He's right. I would do anything for Harry. Pansy could feel the same for you. Even if she never did, she would still be on the right side. She's against Voldemort; her parents don't know yet, but they'll find out soon, and she'll be disowned. She'll lose everything, willingly. You can trust her."

Ron seemed to think for a moment, his eyes becoming glazed over. Finally, when Draco was about to turn and leave, Ron did something he never thought Ron would do. "Mal-Draco? W-would you…would you ask Pansy…" Ron took a deep breath, "would you ask Pansy if she would ever…feel that way…about me?"

Draco almost smiled again. "I'd be glad to." The words seemed to shatter the tension in the room. Ron smiled, which created a sort of domino effect. Harry broke into a grin, and Draco had no choice but to join in with a small smile of his own. 


End file.
